Complement
by RebeccaMarie
Summary: Postfinale piece. Lorelai's thoughts in the time between her proposal and Luke's response.


**Complement **

By: RebeccaMarie

**Disclaimer:** I do not own nor am I affiliated with Gilmore Girls.

**Summary:** A little post-finale piece. I'm late to the party, but I brought chips!

complement : 1. Something that completes, makes up a whole, or brings to perfection.

2. Either of two parts that complete the whole or mutually complete each other.

I actually have to remind myself to breathe as I sit here, staring at Luke, waiting for his potentially life-changing response.

_"And now you're standing there, looking at me like I'm crazy..."_

Maybe I am crazy. Not a Sylvia Plath kind of crazy, but the kind of crazy Katie was for Hubbell. I love this man standing in front of me, looking at me like I'm crazy, my Hubbell.

A few seconds ago, (although it feels more like hours, no, days,) I was sitting just as I am now, listening to him babble on and on about kidnaping my daughter in order to make sure she gets to school. My, my, how the tables have turned. I used to be the designated babbler in this relationship, yet there he was, pulling a full-on Lorelai. After all these years, after listening to me chatter mindlessly about coupons or peanut butter, I must have finally rubbed off (dirty! ) on him.

Although he'd never admit that. Just like he'll never admit that he cried when we watched Philadelphia. But I saw him. It wasn't Miss America-blubbering but there were definite tears. He says it was allergies, but I know. I won't ever tell though, because I know Luke.

It occurred to me a few seconds ago, while Luke was talking, that we both have truly rubbed off on each other. I am a better person with him, cliche as that sounds, even in my head, but it's completely relevant and justified in this situation.

Luke and I are true opposites, ask anyone who knows us. (Well, don't ask Kirk because you'll find yourself listening to him ramble on about Equal and the glory days of the Gleason Five. Been there, done that.) I never really believed that saying 'opposites attract,' and I think my repertoire of past men reflects that. Two words: Digger Stiles. The man was practically a Lorelai-clone, but with balls. We all know how that slightly creepy relationship ended so maybe that stupid cliche is true- maybe opposites do attract.

Luke is monosyllabic and antisocial; I, a blabbermouth and a social butterfly.

Luke hates coffee and thinks it will be the death of everyone who drinks it; I have been known to offer my child up in exchange for a cup o' joe. (It was one time, okay? By the way, who is Joe and why is his name used as a substitute for coffee? Whoever he is, I think I want to have his babies.)

Luke is reserved and unemotional; I am open and long-winded.

Luke is practical; I am flighty.

Luke is realistic; I am dramatic.

I seem to be getting the short end of the stick in most of these comparisons , but the point is, Luke and I complement each other. Each of us balances the other out. We're like night and day, apples and oranges, Melissa and Joan Rivers. (Except Luke and I both have our original faces, but, you get the point.)

Even our names go well together;

Luke and Lorelai, Lorelai and Luke.

How freaky is that? Anne Heche/Celeste freaky.

Lately though, I've found myself pairing more than our first names.

Lorelai Gilmore-Danes

Luke Danes-Gilmore

Luke Gilmore

Hmm, that last one could work. Last week, at the Inn, things were slow, so I was sitting at the desk doodling, not really paying attention, when Michel walked by and told me I was pathetic. Now, this is not an uncommon thing for Michel to say, but it was kind of random so I asked him why. He gestured to the paper I had been drawing on and could barely control his laughter. Unknowingly, I had created a slightly creepy Kathy Bates-ish tribute to Luke. The page was filled with hearts, some with 'Luke' or two 'L's' in the center. Scattered around the page were variations of both of our names. Together.

Gilmore. Danes. Gilmore-Danes. Danes-Gilmore.

What am I, twelve? Okay, I'm totally twelve. Needless to say, I stuffed the paper into my purse and high-tailed it out of the lobby -fast.

Not so long after that, the dreams began. Dreams filled with taffeta and tulle, of veils, and champagne fountains. The dreams were always slightly varied, some nights, it was a spring wedding, others, in fall. Every dream shared the same core element though. In each one, I walked down the aisle towards a waiting, grinning, Luke.

I should have been terrified. I, Lorelai Gilmore, am not that kind of girl. I haven't had my fantasy wedding planned since age twelve and I didn't order my wedding dress the first day of junior high. Seriously, they should check to make sure I have ovaries. So, why am I suddenly that girl? I have never, ever, pictured myself married to any of my boyfriends before, and all of a sudden I'm doodling about last names, and champagne, and tulle.

_"Lorelai, don't you think you'll ever want to be married?"_

I do want to be married and I should be terrified, but I'm not. I feel indescribably comfortable and safe with Luke. I've finally found It. The Whole Package.

_"You'll get it. "_

Luke comforted me so many years ago, when I was younger, immature, still a child, crying about Christopher, and Max. He eased my pain by assuring me that someday I'd find It. The Whole Package. Little did I know that I'd already found it.

Now, as I sit, immaculately still, afraid that if I move, this moment will be real and the rejection I might soon be facing will be real as well.

I look into Luke's eyes and I hope he knows I've found It. Somehow he knows. He knows.

**A/N:** Silly, short, and simple. I may end up deleting this tomorrow. Who knows. I like reviews though. Be they raves or rants.


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